


spider

by amuk



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 14:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: In another time, in another life, the people might have called Nagato saviour, called Konan angel. In this one, though, he was a spider and Konan was not allowed to exist.





	spider

**Author's Note:**

> written for the Naruto Mix-Up zine. It was interesting writing for Akatsuki, I’ve never really touched them before and it’s been an eternity since I’d even thought of ‘original, idiot’ tobi.
> 
> Prompt: konan-Nagato power swap

 

“The spider is here,” a child shouted, hopping up and down excitedly.

 

Briefly, Nagato glanced to the side, to the bedraggled boy gazing up at him in awe. His worn mother grabbed his hand, hushing him sternly. Turning to Nagato, she bowed apologetically. “Please ignore him, he means no harm.”

 

“It’s fine.” His voice croaked from disuse. From his waist, four thin paper limbs jutted out, each ending in a sharp spike. Spider. Perhaps he did look like one. These fake limbs kept him high above the average citizen and now they bent down, lowering him to the woman’s eyesight. Glancing at the boy, he added, “No harm done.”

 

“Thank you.” She smiled gratefully at him, pushing her son’s head down so he apologized. Then she quickly hurried him along, the scent of fear still strong on her despite Nagato’s reassurances. Around them, other citizens averted their eyes and perhaps the difference between awe and fear was a thin one.

 

After the pair had disappeared, he rose once more, his long limbs slowly guiding him through the crowds. A ship on land, he swayed from side to side as he walked, each paper leg stabbing the ground to get a grip. The crowds parted like water before his wake. From up here, he watched a bird fly to an alcove, a worm in her mouth. Above them, the rain had paused, the clouds still heavy and pregnant, and Pain must have returned from his latest mission.

 

Nagato turned to their headquarters, to the main hall that had become something akin to home.

 

 _Home is where this is,_ Jiraiya had said long ago, poking Nagato in the chest. Yahiko’s and Konan’s smiles flashed through his memory and no, he was wrong. The building was just an abode. Home had died long ago.

 

When he reached their headquarters, he lowered himself once more, his spindly legs thickening as paper transferred up to make him shorter. The tips of his feet brushed the ground but he couldn’t feel that anymore, couldn’t feel anything below his paper harness. Entering the dimly lit building, he blinked as his eyes adjusted.

 

From the corner, he heard a chuckle. “Now you’re more of a tarantula.”

 

Nagato squinted, adjusting to the light. Half-hidden in the shadows, Zetsu leaned against a pillar. Half-hidden if only because with his white half, it was nearly impossible for him to ever be entirely invisible. Standing straight now, he snorted. “ _A pest either way.”_

 

If it weren’t for the voice change, it’d be hard to tell which half of him spoke what. Even now, months after they’d first met, it was still unsettling to see this half black, half white man, a morality division come to life. “Your mission is done?” Nagato rasped, ignoring the insult.

 

“ _Who do you think your talking to?_ ” Zetsu’s brow narrowed in irritation, both halves of him united for once.  His arms crossed. “Of course it is!”

 

Nagato contemplated if it was worth killing him, Madara be damned. Whatever uses he had, he was almost as much of a nuisance as ‘Tobi’ was. “I’ll inform Pain.”

 

“ _Hurry to your master, puppy_ ,” Zetsu sneered, his black half’s lip curling. His white half waved pleasantly and there was something unnerving about how both halves of his face had different expressions. About how both halves him were doing two entirely different motions, an impossible feat for humanity.

 

No, if Nagato were honest, it was unsettling how Madara kept recruiting these unhinged strangers. Each one was stranger than the last and while he knew Pain could keep them under check, he still disliked the situation. There was something wrong about this, about all of this. His paper legs tapped quietly along the stone floor as he headed to Pain’s room, gibberish Morse code echoing off the walls.

 

And even that made more sense than what they were doing.

 

-x-

 

 _We are stronger together_ , Yahiko had stated cheerfully, his smile as ethereal as the sun. _Just like your papers, Nagato—alone they’re weak but together they’re indestructible._

 

And when the sun finally set, when together they were unable to survive, Nagato lay infirm on his bed and stacked a sheet of papers. One by one, he layered them on top of each other, pouring his chakra in like glue. Grief, anger, joy, he pressed his emotions into the very fibres of the material until he was all emptied out.

 

Spider, the people called his paper legs, called the emotions he had tried so hard to hide away. Maybe there was a truth to that, to this intricate web he was laying down to change the world. However, he wasn’t sure if he was the one trapping or being trapped.

 

-x-

 

“Welcome back.” Konan gave him a tired smile, sitting up on her bed. She looked paler than usual, thick black bags under her eyes, and her arm trembled as she waved. Only the blue paper flower in her hair gave her any colour. The big black Akatsuki robes engulfed her entirely, making her look smaller than usual.

 

Frailty was on the tip of his tongue. Sitting down on her bed next to her, he clasped her hand, sandwiching it between his. Cold, her skin felt cold, and he wondered once more just what the cost of her powers were. The toll on her body. He could see her veins and perhaps the path they were taking was just as transparent. “Are you okay?”

 

On a chair on the other side of the bed, Pain sat motionless, a puppet waiting for its next command. Yahiko had never been so still in his life and with the corpse’s blank expression, it was easy to think of him as ‘Pain’. As anyone but Yahiko. Only this body had such special treatment; on the floor across the room, three more bodies lay on the ground, waiting to spring into action.

 

 “I’m fine,” Konan replied unconvincingly, her voice stronger than the rest of her. She closed her ringed eyes, the damned circles that were both their saviour and their tragedy. Squeezing his fingers gently, she opened her eyes once more, her focus darting from one body to the next. Each one rose smoothly in turn, standing in attention. She was getting better at this. “It takes more energy than I expected.”

 

Her hand shook in his, faint ripples on a pond. As it was, she could barely get out of bed without support, most of her energy expended on moving each of the corpses. A plan they both agreed to but his price was far smaller. Pressing his forehead to their joined hands, he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

 

Konan eyed him, a long moment. He remembered another time, another place, her brow furrowed as she glared down their enemies. Yahiko bled out, Nagato’s legs were crushed, and he was never certain if the resulting scream that came was from her or him. Only that everything melted into black fire immediately after, the normally cheerful girl a raging inferno. In the present, she was neither, just calm, still water. A dead lake. “Don’t be.” She patted his deadened legs, her eyes soft. “We both suffered.”

 

It wasn’t the same, but he didn’t push the matter. Instead, he pulled out two sheets of paper from his pocket, creating a butterfly. With a small push of chakra, it flapped its wings and flew to her flower, landing on it lightly. “I found a candidate for the next path.”

 

“Another one.” She surveyed the room, her expression grim. Her fingers twitched, moving all four puppets at once, before she dropped her hand with a weary sigh. “The room needs to be ready after that one.”

 

“Oh.” Nagato watched the butterfly flap its wings slowly, each beat a breath. “It’s time?”

 

“I can barely move as is,” she replied wryly, letting the bodies drop once more. Holding out a finger, she watched awestruck as the butterfly lighted on it. Light pink wings fluttered as it balanced on her skin. Her eyes softened. “This is beautiful.”

 

“I saw it on my way back.” He was already pulling out more sheets of paper, constructing flowers from the orchard he’d visited. Each petal was a bright colour, a blood orange or a neon yellow or soft lavender, colours that Konan could not find in this room anymore. Finally, he made a small bird, a delicate creature with a head the size of a thumb. When his chakra breathed life into it, the bird cocked his head and flew around the room. “I thought you’d like it.”

 

“Amazing.”  Konan gathered the flowers, her bony fingers pressing the blooms together. The bird twittered, gliding through the air until it landed on Pain’s head. She used to call his hair a bird’s nest and this merited a ghost of a smile. “You’ve gotten better at this.”

 

Nagato gestured at the paper legs, his only method of movement. “I have to.”

 

“That true.” She relaxed her posture, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her body is broken glass, all jagged edges, and he wasn’t sure how long it’d be before she was just skin and bones. For a moment they sat there, watching the bird fly about. When she spoke next, he could barely hear her, her voice low and serious. “Did Madara say anything else?”

 

“Phase one is almost complete,” he answered, resting his chin her hair. Like everything else about her, it felt paper thin. Nagato frowned. “I have no idea how he can act like Tobi sometimes.”

 

“Me neither.” There was a long pause and he waited for her next words. Everything was deliberate with her, slow. With nothing else to do, she spent a lot of time thinking. “I don’t trust him. He’s up to something.”

 

No disagreements there. Though Nagato was not sure of just how much of what Madara had said was true, if that man even was actually Madara. “He probably is. But we can use him.”

 

She pulled away, her ringed eyes boring into his. Her voice was soft, a warning. “Be careful not to be used yourself.”

 

“I will.” He squeezed her hand, her bones as fragile as a bird’s. “I’ll protect you at least.”

 

Konan’s brow furrowed. “Don’t worry about me.” At once the puppets were alert and Yahiko’s—no, _Pain’s_ —body was standing protectively beside her. “I can protect myself.”

 

If he were honest, he knew that all along. Her eyes which could change the world, which could _save_ the world, they could do easily protect her. It was a small vice, a holdover thought from when they were younger and Konan refused to use her powers, terrified of the strength she had.

 

( _I wish I had yours_ , she had confessed once, in the cover of night. They were all huddled together, hiding form the rain. _I wish I could control it, I wish I was normal, I wish I had yours.)_

 

Instead, he got up, gesturing at the Pain’s body. “Our meeting is soon.”

 

“Be careful,” Konan repeated, her words coming out of Pain’s body as it rose. It was unsettling how silently he moved in death, how blank and empty his expressions were. There was none of Yahiko’s charisma, his cheer, his rage. There was nothing, an empty vessel that only served to mirror their plans.

 

Pain headed to the door, holding it open for Nagato. Before they could exit, Konan called out to them, “Maybe you should try to smile more.”

 

That stopped him dead in his tracks. Perplexed, he turned back to her. “What?”

 

“The spider thing.” Konan clarified, the barest hints of a smile on her face. Just how she found out about he, he wasn’t sure. “They might say that less if you smile more.”

 

Konan didn’t smile much either, but he didn’t point that out. Nor did he mention that was something he used to worry about, back when they were younger and he kept his hair long to hide his face. Young Nagato worried about how others thought of him.

 

Older Nagato did not care about such things. Older Nagato knew that there were more important things out there. Still, humouring her, he nodded. “I’ll consider it.”

 

It had been ages since he’d last smiled. He wasn’t sure if he remembered how to.

 

-x-

 

Tobi was waiting in the corridor, the only one of the Akatsuki members who ever ventured this far in. The only one they’d allow to venture this far in. There was a cheerful wave, and Nagato knew he was in his Tobi persona and not his Madara one.

 

“It’s time for the meeting? Tobi almost forgot!” Tobi chirped, a creature of whimsy and inherent silliness. It made him even more dangerous, if possible, and Nagato gave him a wide berth as they passed.

 

Konan’s fear was not unfounded, he knew. They might not be able to tame this monster, to subdue it and destroy it. But there were no other options, no other ways. He had already failed Yahiko once, he would not do it again. If this was the only way to peace, he would take it.

 

“Don’t be late,” Pain replied, brushing past Tobi.

 

“Of course!” Tobi’s voice shifted suddenly, deeper and more imposing. “And I will meet you soon for the next step.”

 

Nagato repressed a shiver. Truly, it was a monster he was dealing with.

 

-x-

 

Nagato was an adult now. It was strange to think that, to realize that which each passing day he was turning an age Yahiko would never reach. Soon he would be older than his parents were, heading into a territory that was vastly new and unexplored.

 

Only Jiraiya had reached these ages before and he was not here anymore.

 

With his long spindly legs, he traversed the city once more. Konan had stopped the rain briefly, a rainbow arcing above him. A sight she would never see with her bare eyes but his papers could not replicate it nor the other beauties of the world.

 

Below him, a child stared up, her mouth agape. “A spider,” she murmured.

 

 _Smile_ , Konan had said. He lowered himself to the ground next to her, before her father could yank her away. His fingers already forming a paper flower. “For you.”

 

The child stared at it before hesitantly grabbing it, her pudgy fingers crushing the petals. “For me?”

 

“Yes.” Nagato did not smile. He had forgotten how to do so long ago.

 

But the child, the child smiled, as broad at the rainbow above them. Maybe this time he could protect that smile. Maybe this time, becoming an adult, getting older, did not have to mean losing things.

 

It was a small hope, but it was all he had left.


End file.
